


Oversplit

by spinningmushrooms



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bottom Sherlock, Coach John, Extremely Dubious Consent, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Going to Hell, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Size Difference, Size Kink, Top John, Top John Watson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-02 09:35:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16784344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinningmushrooms/pseuds/spinningmushrooms
Summary: “John, we’ve got to get that sweet little tease on the cheerleader squad. It's where he belongs.”John gives a low grunt fo agreement. Greg’s absolutely right, but that's only half true. John knows where that little walking fuck puppet truly belongs is writhing and straining on the end of John’s thick cock, his small little body being pounded hard from behind while he cries and cries those pretty, pretty pale blue eyes out.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Coach Watson sees the boy John thinks he’s a girl.

No one could blame him.

Honestly what boy could have such plush, pouty lips, such bouncy big curls, or such smooth soft-porcelain skin. Not to mention the small, delicate frame, swan-like neck and slutty, long, doll-like legs. And when she sashays down the opposite side of the gym, John’s cock, already half hard from seeing the front, goes steel hard at the most telling piece of evidence: the world’s roundest, plushest ass. Most girls couldn’t achieve those sort of high globes even with butt augmentation.

A cum-fantasy come true.

Standing next to him, the assistant football coach, Greg, whistles when they both first catch sight of the positively delectable little dream prancing by: big chocolate locks bouncing, up-tipped little nose raised high in the air, trying not to seem like she cares but a pair of somewhat downcast eyes telling another story: a hint of haughtiness overlaying a shy sweet innocence.

John’s never wanted to fuck anything so hard in his life.

Mary, the school’s cheerleading coach, walks over to the men hungrily leering over the ripe young piece of ass.

She crosses her arm over her chest and nods to the boy. “Sherlock Holmes. Sophomore. Just transferred in.” She says, stepping in front of John to try and capture the coach’s attention.

“Mmm. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” John says gruffly, looking around her, eyes still ravenously clamped onto the tiny teen walking gracefully to where coach Irene is beginning her gymnastics class.

Mary rolls her eyes and corrects him.

Both football coaches shrug, the latter even adding, “Still has the poutiest lips I’ve ever seen.”

John grunts his agreement.

Right then the slender teen looks over and at John: pretty blue eyes find dark blue through ridiculously long lashes. For a second fair blue orbs widen and flutter, batting coyly several times before flicking away back to focus on readying his turn on the matt.

Seeing how enticingly innocent he is, John recalls Mary’s claim the boy is already a sophomore. “He looks about 12. What’s he doing in high school?” John inquires.

“He’s 14. Apparently clever enough he skipped a grade I think.”

Greg’s face falls as he suddenly realizes something. “Only 14. Fuck. Think we can make an exception to get him on your cheerleading team, Mary?”

Only students 15 and older were allowed to actually cheer for the varsity team and even then it was extremely difficult to make the cut.

Mary’s mouth tightens. “Not likely. In any case, he’s one of Adler’s. One of those classical little brats. He’s evidently only into ballet, dance and gymnastics. A spoiled little princess if you ask me.”

Indeed. Every pair of male eyes, all the players who had come in to shower after practice, all the other guys in the gym, as well as the other male coaches - hell, even a few of the females - are staring at the fourteen year old’s delectability.

And what does that shameless little minx do?

John gives a low growl when he it happens. The fourteen year old slut stretches right there in front of everyone, bending at the waist, little body beyond flexible, his ripe ass-mounds forming sinful globes that sends every cock in the room throbbing in want.

John has to excuse himself. He’s about to bust a nut harder than he has in years. Greg stops him as he makes his way to the bathroom.

“John, we’ve _got_ to get that sweet little tease on the cheerleader squad. It's where he belongs.”

John gives a low grunt fo agreement. Greg’s absolutely right, but that's only half true. John knows where that little walking fuck puppet _truly_ belongs is writhing and straining on the end of John’s thick cock, his small little body being pounded hard from behind while he cries and cries those pretty, pretty pale blue eyes out. 


	2. Chapter 2

It becomes impossible to ignore how Sherlock becomes more and more delectable with each passing day.

John has personally take note of several delectable things about the boy, not least of which is how deliciously flexible he is. He excels at all sorts of dance, given how supple his spine and limbs are. It goes beyond what any of the female cheerleaders can do. 

His rhythmic gymnastics routine is pure enticement. The pretty thing waves his red ribbon about in a sensual dance, mimicking the ribbon’s air movements with his own skinny body as he flips and tumbles and twists and cartwheels and splits his long slender legs in something completely erotic.

It isn't just Coach Watson who notices. The next two weeks sees the crowd of jocks and adults during the boy’s practice routines grow exponentially. Only fourteen years and already the potential of those full pouty lips and lush ass have made a name for themselves. One might almost call it comical how all the football players and coaches make excuses for sticking around, well after their own practice sessions, how they ignore all the cheerleaders and female students and coaches. One _might_ if one wasn't John Watson and didn't want to tear those men's prying eyes out with his bare hands. 

John sees how the other girls give the tiny boy dirty looks. He could practically smell their jealousy wafting off of them. None of them are half as lithe or can splay their legs as effortlessly wide. A natural grace and dancing ability. 

It has John worried that it’ll make Sherlock’s entry onto the cheerleader squad harder to come by once he turns fifteen.

With the certainly of a man whose fucked enough virgins across three continents to know when a little fucktoy such as this boy is ready to slip off the last of his innocence, John decides it’s time to let Sherlock know how much of a little cock slut he really is.

He walks up to the boy as stands in front of the matt, preparing his next layout. John can tell he’s deep in concentration. Sherlock does this adorable little nose crinkle-twitch thing when he’s confused or thinking or drifting off into his own headspace, reminiscent of a bunny rabbit.

The dancer is about to jump forward when John steps behind him and grabs those skinny hips in a gentle but firm hold. Sherlock yelps, starled.

“You have the most incredibly plump ass, did you know that,” John growls.

His voice rumbles across the delicate white shell of Sherlock’s ear. Shivering slightly, the little gymnast turns to see the football coach’s dark hungry look, his own lighter colored eyes widen, doe-like.


End file.
